


We Two Boys Clinging Together

by ScarlettWallflower



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, Dename - Freeform, Gay Cowboys, M/M, Past England/America, Past France/America, Period-Typical Homophobia, explicit depiction of homophobic violence, heavily implied sexual content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 20:38:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17474594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarlettWallflower/pseuds/ScarlettWallflower
Summary: Alfred Jones and Mathias Kohler are cowboys partnered for a cattle drive on the Chisholm Trail. What follows is a love that blossomed from their haunted pasts and flourished in spite of wretched circumstance.





	We Two Boys Clinging Together

**Author's Note:**

> My first ever comission for a good friend of mine on tumblr, 50 Colonies
> 
> DenAme is such an invisible pairing, so here I am, hoping to do it some justice.
> 
> Just as an aside, the Wild West was really funny because it was created, culturally speaking, as a way for men to regain their masculinity in a society they felt was becoming too feminized and European. Ironically, the cowboy lifestyle become a haven for gay men seeking out male companionship in a place isolated and disorderly enough to largely ignore any homosexual activity they may have participated in (anti-sodomy laws were in place but rarely enforced).
> 
> Title is a Walt Whitman poem. References to Walt Whitman would have been how gay men at the time would have signaled their preferences to each other.
> 
> One last thing, expect a "director's cut" version with full sex scenes when the author decides to stop being such a chicken and write them.

“Jones!”

“Sir?”

Mr. Pritchard waved him over to the stables. 

As they entered the stable, Alfred’s eyes tried to adjust to the dim light and dust in the air. He rubbed at his eyes while Mr Pritchard said, “Alfred, this here’s Mathias Kohler. He’s gonna be your partner. Shake hands and make nice with each other now, cause y’all are gonna be each other’s only company for the drive. Better get to be good friends.” Pritchard walked away into what could generously be called his office, chuckling in that annoying old man way.

Alfred opened his eyes and nearly gasped at the man in front of him. Young and taller than himself even. He had wild blonde hair that stuck up every direction and gray eyes. The beginnings of a beard covered the lower half of his face and his mouth was pressed in a tight serious line. Alfred’s heat jumped. 

“Alfred Jones,” he said, offering his hand and a smile. 

The man looked at Alfred’s hand for a moment and Alfred felt his confidence failing. Why did he look so contemptuous and displeased?

After a tense minute, the man looked up and said, “I wouldn’t want to shake your hand with mine so dirty.”

He showed his palms, covered in straw and mud.

“My name is Mathias Kohler.” His speech and expression were stern and formal. Perhaps that was just the way in his country.

His new partner also had a noticeable accent. He pronounced all his “th” sounds like “d” and his vowels were heavy in the back of his mouth. Alfred thought it was heavenly to the ears. 

“The way you talk, you’re from somewhere else ain’t you?”

“I am from Denmark. My English is better than it was when I arrived in America but I am still learning.” His tone was stiff, clearly embarrassed, but Alfred waved him off.

“Oh no don’t you worry about that! I understand you just fine there, partner.”

Mathias nodded with a slight wince and Alfred wondered if he was being too loud again. He couldn’t help it, he was so excited. 

Alfred had wanted to travel his entire life and he’d never met a person from Denmark. He didn’t even know where that was. He could have stood there all day asking Mathias a million questions about what his homeland was like but before he could open his mouth, two older cowboys, Jefferson and Watts, came stumbling in. 

“Been to the saloon, boys?” Alfred asked cheerfully. 

“Yep, Miss Rose has been treating us real nice today.” Jefferson grinned lasciviously as he lit a cigarette.

Mathias’ eyes flashed with anger and he snatched the cigarette out of Jefferson’s hands.

“Haven’t you got any sense? One ember hits the ground and this whole place goes up in flames.”

Jefferson glared and made like he was going to grab Mathias’ arm then looked at his bicep and thought better of it. Jefferson was a stringy lanky sort of fellow and he had about twenty years on Mathias. There was no way he could win a fight so he settled for slouching against a post and glowering.

Mathis seemed not to care one bit. He stormed out of the barn and stamped the cigarette with the heel of his boot. 

The atmosphere was tense, even Watts looked nervous. Finally, Mathias relaxed his shoulders and stalked past Jefferson to pick up his hat before he walked into the noontime sunlight.

Jefferson watched him go, then huffed dismissively. He turned his attention to Alfred next.

“Better watch your back with that one, Jones. I’ve heard all about what them Europeans get up to. It’s bad enough we got em in our country and having the run of the place. I’m warning you, boy, if you ain’t careful, he’s gonna have the run of it with you.”

Alfred straightened and crossed his arms. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”

Watts cackled. “Hoo boy, Jeff, this one’s in for it, ain’t he?” He lurched forward and grabbed Alfred’s shoulder. “I knew you was a young buck, but you don’t even know what a sodomite is, ahahaha!”

Jefferson and Watts had a good laugh about Alfred’s supposed naivete as he tended to his horse and quickly made his exit. 

On the way to his room, Alfred couldn’t suppress the smirk on his lips when he thought of what he’d been up to in New Orleans before Francis found him and what he and Francis had been up to together. He was quite familiar with the idea of sodomy indeed.

A bitter twist in his stomach made Alfred stop and look skyward. He’d never been one for praying, not after he left home, but he believed in heaven and was sure Francis was there. And on the chance that he might be listening, Alfred whispered, “I’m sorry, that was crass. Please forgive me.”

Alfred waited, hoping to feel some rush of love or warmth that would assure him that Francis had heard him and was somewhere within reach.

The world was unmoved. Alfred went on.

When he reached the bunk room, Mathias was lying on his bunk, watching the door.

“We need to leave tomorrow at dawn. You should go to sleep.”

Alfred sighed. He felt a bit foolish for having tried to defend Mathias in front of Jefferson and Watts. What was there to be protective of anyway? Mathias didn’t seem to care about anything.

“Sure thing.”

Alfred flopped down on his bed and yanked his boots off. He had a feeling this was going to be a long drive.

 

It was three days into the drive and Alfred had made up his mind on two topics: one, Mathias was a rude and standoffish fellow who spoke in a series of curt commands and two, he was perhaps the most ravishing man Alfred had ever met with the exception of Francis.

The sun was steadily going down and Mathias signalled for him to lead the horses off the trail and allow the cattle to graze and rest for the night.

Alfred couldn’t help rolling his eyes as he did what he was told. He wasn’t exactly a seasoned professional but he’d been doing this for about a year. Mathias was newer than himself and yet he bossed him around all day.

Nighttime was even worse. They ate their supper in silence and slept in a tent together until daybreak. Attempts at conversation were futile, with Mathias providing only clipped responses and woe betide anyone (Alfred) who tried to liven things up by playing the harmonica or singing.

Sleeping in the tent was worst of all. Nights on the trail were cold and it was impossible to sleep when you were up shivering all the time. Alfred’s last partner had been another young man named Jacob and the two had been close friends. On cold nights, they had slept huddled together under their blankets and had stayed fairly warm.

Alfred had not dared broach the subject with Mathias, who never seemed to get cold, and spent his nights curled into a ball in the left corner of the tent.

Alfred could have lived with this. If his partner wanted to be a sullen bastard, he could have waited it out and asked Mr. Pritchard for another partner when they got back into town. If Mathias had been ugly or otherwise unattractive in addition to being rude, Alfred would have been fine.

But that damned Mathias was a looker. Alfred rode behind him and had an unobstructed view of his sculpted ass all day and looked at his face while he was asleep all night. Jacob was pock-marked and buck-toothed but he was friendly and made good conversation.

On the third night, Alfred studied Mathias’ face, squinting in whatever moonlight filtered through the canvas tent. With his face relaxed out of the usual scowl he wore, he was even more handsome. Friendly, approachable, and younger looking too. Alfred wondered if Mathias had ever been as nice as he looked. Had there ever been a time when he would smile big and laugh with his head thrown back?

The next day, Alfred awoke to find Mathias gone from the tent and feared he’d overslept. He came tumbling out of the tent, tugging his boots on.

He scanned the vicinity, fully expecting to see Mathias saddling the horses and in a foul mood. Mathias was nowhere to be found.

They were out in the middle of nowhere and both horses were still there, so he couldn’t have gone far. He searched the area around their camp and eventually saw something down by the little stream they’d been using for water.

There was Mathias, naked as the day he was born, pouring a bucket of water over his head.

“What in the hell are you doing?” Alfred called. Mathias turned around to face him and it took every ounce of will Alfred possessed not to look down at his…

“I’m taking a bath, well, I’m washing anyway,” he grumbled, looking at Alfred like he’d lost his mind.

“Why?”

“It’s been three days and I am dirty. I am going to wash my clothes next. You ought to do the same.” He spoke slowly and gave Alfred a strict look.

Alfred was hardly listening. He was struggling to keep his eyes up. No, it was too tempting. He looked down and bit his lip to keep his mouth from dropping open.

Damn, it was impressive. Bigger than his. That girth inside of him, feeling that delicious stretch...

Mathias noticed because he rolled his eyes. “Americans… And stop staring, it’s cold out here,” he blushed a little and turned away.

“Can’t be that cold with you looking like that,” Alfred muttered.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing,” he said with a laugh and ripped his suspenders off his shoulders.

“There’s another bucket over there, take your clothes off and put them in there. We’ll wash them as soon as we finish.”

Alfred threw his shirt and blue jeans in the wash bin and ran over to his partner. Mathias was ready for him and dumped the water over him. 

“Gaah!”

Mathias shoved a bar of lye soap into his hands. “Here. How you stand being covered in dirt and stinking like a goat, I’ll never know.”

“Aww, I didn’t think it was that bad,” Alfred said as he scrubbed.

“It was,” Mathias assured him, shaking his hair out.

While they washed themselves, Alfred went back to staring, this time less abashedly, at Mathias

Of course, he’d seen so many men without their clothes on. Some fat with bellies extending over their trousers, some thin enough to see their ribs. 

Mathias was beautiful, like one of those greek gods in a book he’d read come to life. Every muscle was taut and defined and there was a sense of power and mastery of his own form. 

It wasn’t long before Alfred began imagining what Mathias could do to him with those body parts. Big hands that held his hips still while they made love, a firm ass he’d squeeze with his own hands, and those thick, powerful thighs squeezing his body with each thrust.

Alfred glanced down his own torso, knowing he was hard and praying to whatever god may be listening that Mathias had not noticed. He yanked up the bucket of icy water and dumped it over his own head, swallowing the scream he wanted to make so as not to draw attention to himself.

Mathias had finished washing himself and strode over to the wash bin, haunches exposed to Alfred’s view.

“I can wash your clothes too, if you aren’t done,” Mathias said as he took a smaller piece of soap and the washboard out of the water.

“Much obliged,” Alfred squeaked, wishing like hell he could go back to the tent and jack off. 

Providence shined upon him, apparently, because Mathias asked him, rather than just bluntly ordering him, to get their spare clothes from the tent.

When he came back after a time that could not properly be explained as Alfred being unable to find something of Mathias’, Alfred was wiping his still-sticky hands on his pants and watching Mathias closely as he watered and saddled the horses.

This was shaping up to be the longest two weeks of his life.

 

As horribly embarrassing as the whole bathing incident was, it seemed to turn Mathias’ opinion about him to a more positive one.

He was more polite during the daytime when giving Alfred direction and spoke more freely to him at night. He even stopped sleeping so far away from Mathias and moved closer to the middle of the tent.

A week into the drive, Alfred felt himself emboldened by this progress. He’d had plenty of time to think over the matter and had come to the conclusion that his attraction to Mathias was more than just lust.

The trouble was that he didn’t know how to go about addressing the subject or if he even should. Alfred had no reason to believe that Mathias shared his feelings. He’d become more polite and affable but he hadn’t attempted to woo Alfred in any way. Though it might be that he had been spoiled by Francis in courtship. Alfred realized that he himself was no great romancer either.

That man he’d slept with the night before Francis found him, that small Englishman, had never guaranteed anything. But he’d also told him that being a cowboy was often the chosen profession for men who “enjoyed the company of other men”, as he’d put it. It may have been selfish and it may have been a sin, but Alfred wanted more from Mathias than just simple friendship.

That day was spent watching how gently Mathias treated the horses, the sturdy, confident set of his shoulders, and the way he seemed so calm, assured of his own competence as he commanded the horses and gave Alfred instructions.

Later that night, as they finished their supper and relaxed in front of the fire, Alfred lay propped up on his side, telling Mathias a story about himself and his old partner trying to fend off cattle rustlers.

“In the end, I couldn’t hear out of my left ear for about a week and Jacob’ll probably never walk quite right again but we got our herd delivered to Abilene right on schedule and we drank damn near a barrel of liquor between the two of us with our wages, so it turned out alright.”

Mathias’ smile was still hesitant, showing no teeth and looking wobbly, like he was out of practice using it. Up close, there was a desperation and deep sadness to Mathias. Something inside of him ached, empty like hunger, and Alfred wanted to know Mathias Kohler.

Alfred turned to the fire. Would it be worth it to say what was on his mind? Out here. Out west with no one around for miles. If there were no other people besides themselves, were there any rules?

“How old are you?” Mathias asked slowly.

Alfred laughed, turning and batting his eyelashes at Mathias.

“Ain’t you know better than to ask a lady her age?” 

Mathias snorted. “If you were a lady or a gentleman I might.”

Alfred plunked down on his pack, limbs sprawled all around in the dirt.

“I’m nineteen. How about you?”

“Twenty five years old.”

“How’d you end up here?”

Alfred grinned, lifting his chin up haughtily.

“I was put on this earth to ramble all around it. I ain’t never stayed in one place too long and I don’t aim to. That’s the best part about being a cowboy. We ride up and down the trails and hop from town to town.”

“You didn’t answer me.”

Alfred looked down at his hands.

“My ma and pa are church folks. Baptists. I got an older brother and he’s the nicest fellow you’d ever like to meet. When I came around they didn’t know what to do with me. Ma used to tell me I didn’t know how to be good and I reckon she’s right. I ran off when I was about thirteen. Got some jobs as a farmhand. I worked a few horse farms and then figured I oughta try my hand out here. Maybe someday I’d like to ride with the Texas Rangers. You know, helping folks and keeping law and order in the wild west.”

There was more to the story but Mathias needn’t know. Perhaps he might tell him later, even if he never told another soul. Mathias was that kind of trustworthy person that made things tumble out of you before you had the sense to shut up.

Mathias frowned. “Don’t you want to go home? I’m sure your family misses you.”

Alfred shrugged, fiddling with a patch of grass. “I bet not. I bet they’re happy they ain’t got to worry about me embarrassing them.” Alfred made a sound that was far too akin to a sniffle and wiped his eyes on his shirt sleeve. 

“What’d you come out here for?”

“I came to this country to begin a new life and I did. I met a woman at the depot when I arrived from New York. Her name was Lucia and she was an immigrant like me, only she was from Norway. I loved her as I have never loved anyone. We were married and I built us a small farm and did carpentry work for neighbors. We had a son, a beautiful boy named Emil. But there was an outbreak of cholera. My wife and my son, not even three years old, were dead within a week.” 

Alfred’s eyes were wide and he leaned forward near his partner.

“I could not live in our house anymore. I cannot look at a woman without seeing Lucia as she was. So I had to go to a place where there are no women and no reminders of what I have lost.”

“Think you’ll ever fall in love again?” Alfred could have kicked himself. It sounded crass, asking the poor man a question like that. But he couldn’t help it. He needed to know how he should proceed from here, whether it was worth it to keep on the path he felt himself going down.

“There’s no other woman for me. I’ll never have another child either.” Mathias’ voice was heavy and vacant. “And now that I’ve gone away, I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to go back around normal people.”

Alfred just nodded. He could relate to the feeling of alienation all too well. But explaining that would lead to having to tell Mathias why he was really out here. That would mean talking about Francis and the circumstances that led up to their meeting. Alfred was ashamed of himself for working at the brothel as a whore but the topic of Francis was sacred and he guarded it ferociously.

Then there was the bitterness that came with the realization that his love for Francis had outlived the man himself and the feeling that he’d been abandoned in a world that had no place for someone like him. Alfred had spent many a night yelling in his head at Francis, God, the devil, anyone who might be listening. He was nineteen and very tired.

“Near as I can tell, there’s no good in loving people. But I keep on doin’ it. I wish I could stop, just quit caring and go on with my life alone.”

“You shouldn’t wish for a thing like that, Alfred. Kind-natured people like you are rare enough. And if we don’t have anyone to love, you become like Jefferson and Watts.” Mathias said quietly.

The fire crackled. Alfred tore up a piece of grass he had ripped out of the ground, feeling stupid. Mathias was just like most older people, laughing at him when he was plain about what he thought. When something touched his knee, he jerked his head back up.

Mathias had a hand on his knee, rubbing his thumb in circles on the kneecap and looking right into Alfred’s eyes.

“You’re so young,” he whispered. “Handsome too. You ought to go back home. You’d make more money in the east than you ever could out here.”

“You said it yourself, out here’s where ya go when you can’t be around polite society.”

“You’re not like me, Alfred. You’re not broken down-”

“Maybe I am,” Alfred cut in sharply. “What do you know about me anyways?”

“There’s a difference between having bad things happen to you and being broken. Whatever trials you have had in your life, you’ve come out of them with your spirit still intact.”

Mathias’ face was so close Alfred could have counted each individual whisker on his face. He leaned his face in even closer and Alfred’s heart took off in a gallop. Mathias tilted Alfred’s chin with his thumb as their lips drew closer...

Alfred’s horse whinnied loudly, rearing up and trying to break free of it’s harness. Mathias’ horse was a ornery buck and seemed to find it amusing to nip viciously at Alfred’s older mare.

In a second, the warmth Mathias had provided was gone to tend to the horses and Alfred released the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Defeated and sapped of energy, Alfred retreated to the tent.

 

When dawn began to peak through the tent flaps, Alfred looked over to see Mathias still asleep. This was odd in and of itself because Mathias was typically up and saddling the horses before Alfred even knew what was going on.

Alfred pulled the blanket off Mathias’ face to get a good look at him. He was shaking and tossing in his sleep. When Alfred placed a hand gently on his chest, Mathias jerked awake and nearly knocked him over trying to sit up.

“Is it dawn already?” he asked, sounding out of breath.

“Well, yes-” Alfred began before Mathias shooed him out of the way to stand up and begin pulling his boots on.

“Then we’re behind. Let’s get a move on.”

“Are you alright? Your face looks awful pale.”

Mathias turned and glared up at Alfred. “It’s just the light. Put your boots on and let’s go.”

Alfred watched his partner as he stormed out of the tent and over towards the horses. Mathias had been so kind lately, what had gotten into him? Would things go back to the way they were? They couldn’t, not when Alfred and Mathias had started getting to know each other. Not when Alfred felt like he was falling in love.

The rest of the day, Alfred glumly watched Mathias closely and the progression of his illness became more obvious.

Mathias had a nagging cough and his face looked even more ashen in the daylight. He was sweating and kept wiping at his forehead with his bandana. 

Of course, this only smeared dirt all over him from the dust on the trail but Mathias looked so tense and irritated that Alfred decided it would be better to say nothing at all. 

At one point, when they had to stop at a stream to allow the horses a drink, Alfred tried to help Mathias dismount but was shoved away.

“Get offa me, I’m not an invalid.” Mathias wheezed, staggering off.

Alfred watched him go and couldn’t help feeling hurt. He’d thought they had been getting along well. He worried that all he had been feeling along this drive was only on his part. 

He knew that perhaps he’d gotten his hopes up too high. The two of them had gotten very close to each other, Mathias had touched his knee and his cheek. Surely that meant something.

When they finally set up camp for the night, Mathias looked as though he would faint at any moment, though Alfred dared not touch him. Instead he pitched the tent, built the fire, and put the soup on while Mathias took care of the horses. 

When Mathias came back, he was sniffing into a handkerchief and blowing his nose rather vigorously. He gave a ragged sigh as he sat on the other side of the fire from Alfred.

He didn’t speak, just put his head down in his hands. Alfred checked the soup and poured some into their bowls. He went over quietly and handed Mathias his bowl.

Mathias looked up at Alfred and his eyes were tired and old.

“Thank you, Alfred.” His voice was deeper and dull. 

Alfred smiled and went back to his spot. He waited until Mathias had picked up his spoon and swallowed his first spoonful before doing the same.

When they had finished eating, Mathias stood, slower than he usually did. He said good night and began to walk in the direction of the tent when he suddenly stopped.

Alfred was about to ask what was wrong, when Mathias began coughing. It started off sounding normal, if a bit loud, and gradually became more violent and hacking. Alarmed, Alfred went over to pat him on the back. He gasped for breath a few times, then fainted straight into Alfred’s arms.

Alfred dragged Mathias’ limp body to the tent and laid him down. Mathias’ clothes were soaked with sweat and his body was hot to the touch. Alfred leaned down towards Mathias’ chest and he could hear the fluid in his lungs and the crackling, wheezing sound of Mathias breathing.

Alfred’s mind was reeling. Mathias was horribly ill in the middle of nowhere with nothing that could be done for him. There was a real chance that he could die. Folk died from fever often, even within the reach of doctors. 

He could see Francis, sweet Francis in his fine clothes, lying in the dirt like an old rag. He was forever staring up at the sky with a look of confusion and sadness. Had he wondered where Alfred was in his final moments and felt abandoned?

Alfred crawled out of the tent and gagged, succeeding only in spitting. He roughly wiped his mouth and willed himself not to cry as he stumbled to back into the tent. 

What if Mathias died and left him alone out here? He couldn’t be alone again...

In the midst of his panic, Mathias stirred, moaning softly.

Alfred put aside his worries and leapt into his nursing duties. He began unfastening Mathias’ suspenders, stopped when he realized that the shirt needed to come off first, and yanked them off Mathias’ torso to begin working on the shirt.

“Al, what’re you doing?” he mumbled weakly.

“I’m getting your clothes off. You’re sweatin’ like hell from the fever. Here, put your arms up for me- just like that now, honey- let’s get this shirt off.”

Mathias sat up suddenly next to Alfred, blinking and looking around dazedly. He looked like he was about to say something but sneezed violently then pulled up his knees to take his boots off.

“No, no, lay back down,” Alfred said, pushing gently at Mathias’ chest. “You gotta just close your eyes and rest, darling.”

Mathias blinked in surprise but laid down when Alfred asked. He did not, however, close his eyes. He watched Alfred with the intensely focused eyes of the fevered.

Alfred worked carefully to remove Mathias’ boots. They were heavy and intentionally tight on the leg, not to mention the ever-present danger of the spurs, and they were hell to take off. Luckily, Mathias was just conscious enough to lift and wiggle his foot.

When the boots were set off to the side, Alfred felt Mathias’ clammy hand grabbing his wrist.

“Al-”

“Shh, don’t get yourself addled now. I’ll be right back.”

Alfred walked out to the nearby stream to wet a clean handkerchief for Mathias. The wind picked up and he shivered, worried about the chill Mathias might catch.

When he entered the tent, Mathias had his eyes closed and seemed to be falling asleep. Gently, just like his mother had done for him as a boy, Alfred dabbed the handkerchief on Mathias’ forehead and cheeks. Some dirt from earlier came away and Alfred felt a warmth growing in his chest. 

Mathias opened his eyes slowly and watched Alfred patiently as he worked. 

“Need to tell you something,” Mathias rasped.

“Don’t talk, just save your strength.” Alfred moved the handkerchief down to Mathias’ neck, trying his best to judge how hot the fever was through the damp cloth.

“I love you.”

Alfred dropped the handkerchief on the floor. His heart took off in a gallop, mind racing with the possibilities. Tantalizing, that there could be someone he loved and who loved him. His best friend, his riding partner.

It was too good to be true. Anyway, Mathias was burning up with fever and couldn’t possibly mean what he said. For all Alfred knew, Mathias was dreaming and thought he was talking to his wife. The thought made him sick to his stomach but it seemed the more likely explanation.

“Now, now, quit talking like that. Your fever-”

Mathias grabbed Alfred’s left thigh and threw it over his side, forcing Alfred to straddle him. When Alfred had regained his balance from the shock of this action, he had barely a moment to splutter out a “What in the hell?” before Mathias took his face in his hands. They were work-rough but tender as almost no one had ever been with him, and he brought Alfred down close to him.

Mathias’ expression was passive but his eyes were sharp and fiery as they had been before. His body was scalding and Alfred was unsure that this could be attributed solely to his illness.

“I’ve wanted you since we met. I am a fool, older than you and so desperate I might follow you forever like a sick dog, but one of my many faults is that I cannot leave well enough alone. Please tell me now, could you love me?”

Alfred’s breath caught in his throat and he felt on the verge of tears from sheer maddening joy.

Evidently, Mathias took his silence as reluctance and said, “If you answer no, I’ll let go of you. The fever may be affecting my mind and we should never speak of it again. But if you love me as I love you…” he trailed off, sucking in a labored breath.

“I do. I love you,” Alfred whispered breathlessly.

Mathias pulled Alfred down and kissed him. His arms were tight around Alfred, lips falling hard on his own. There was no escaping and Alfred did not want to. For the first time since Francis, Alfred felt safe and secure. Most importantly, he felt desired, the object of someone’s devotion.

The kiss did not last long as Mathias could no longer breathe through his nose. But when Alfred pulled back to allow his partner some space, he was rewarded with the sweetest, most blissfully happy smile on Mathias’ face.

 

The remainder of the drive went on in ease and contentment. Mathias recovered from his fever quickly and while he still had a something of a bad cold, he was well enough to help Alfred finish the drive during the day and to make love during the night.

In hindsight, the decision to go into town hadn’t been one of Alfred’s better. They needed supplies, true, but staying in town was where the trouble began in earnest.

They’d chosen to stop in a town a little ways north of the trail end. The town itself was not big but it formed a mid-point for the farming communities that surrounded it. Therefore it was bustling with activity when Alfred and Mathias hitched their horses to a post outside the general store and went inside.

The store was bigger than it looked on the outside, packed full of people laughing, gesticulating, haggling, and settling accounts.

Alfred noticed his partner looking around warily and walked up to the counter to get what they needed. While he waited for the man at the counter to get their supplies, Alfred glanced back to the corner where he’d left Mathias. 

He was hunched over like he was trying to hide. His face had gone ashen and his eyes were miserable and haunted. What was perhaps most disturbing was the smile Mathias was attempting to put on. It was shaky and lopsided and showed no teeth. Alfred followed his line of sight, trying to figure out what had gotten Mathias in that state.

A young woman, light complected and good to look at. She’d taken her bonnet off as she spoke with another woman. In her arms was a little boy with hair so blonde it was nearly white, alternating a smile between his mother’s gaze and Mathias’. Mathias was attempting to smile at the child, all the while furiously blinking back tears.

Alfred watched as the little boy struggled in his mother’s arms until she released him and continued talking to the other woman, oblivious to what her son was doing on the ground.

As soon as his feet touched the ground, he toddled past the legs of various adults and went straight to Mathias.

He looked up at Mathias and babbled away, jabbing a little finger at things outside the dirty window. Mathias knelt slowly down to speak to the boy. His expression was full of trepidation and teetering happiness, like he was afraid that he might fall to pieces but desperately wanting to interact with a child that looked so much like the one he’d lost.

It wasn’t long before the mother noticed her son and ran over to him. She grabbed him up off the floor and seemed to be apologizing to Mathias, though Alfred couldn’t hear them from where he was.

Mathias stood immediately when the woman approached, looking at his feet as he spoke and and covering his face with a clean handkerchief he’d pulled out of his pocket. The woman walked away and Mathias’ blinking sped back up again.

The man at the counter had finally given Alfred everything and he shoved the money at him and ran off. He weaved hurriedly through the crowd and grabbed Mathias’ arm when he reached him.

“Come on, let’s get to the room. Grab onto my sleeve, just like that, and follow me out,” Alfred muttered into Mathias’ ear.

Mathias kept his eyes downcast as Alfred lead them out the door and into the street. Alfred opened the saddle bags and began filling them with their goods.

Neither of them said a word as they brought the horses to the stable next to the innhouse and began feeding and watering them.

“I’m sorry,” Mathias said. “They just looked like-”

“I know. Nothin’ to be sorry for,” Alfred said, patting his horse’s neck and giving Mathias a confident smile.

They went up to their room with a bottle of cheap whiskey Alfred had added to their groceries last minute. The rest of the night was spent comforting Mathias after he got drunk and went on a crying jag. Most of Mathias’ words were garbled from tears and whiskey, though occasionally “Emil” and “my baby” could be heard in the midst of a body-racking sob. 

But just before he finally fell asleep, he said to Alfred, “Please don’t leave me. Al, you’re all I have left, you’re the only thing that matters to me. I can’t lose another family.”

Alfred lay on the bed with Mathias in his arms. Mathias’ limbs were sprawled over the bed and his breathing was ragged and loud, verging on snoring. His suspenders were hanging off his pants, Alfred had seen to that before they flopped down on the bed, and his cheeks were sticky from his tears. 

“I’ll never leave you,” Alfred whispered, taking Mathias’ hand and kissing it over and over again. “It’s too late for that, now that I’m head over heels for you.”

Mathias’ head lolled onto Alfred’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, sugar, I didn’t know. Tomorrow will be better,” Alfred whispered into Mathias’ hair. “It’s got to be.”

Mathias was, predictably, hungover the next day. They didn’t stir until noon, taking the horses for a short walk just outside the town. Mathias was groggy and nauseous in the sun and the duo returned quickly back to the inn.

By evening, Mathias was back to himself, teasing Alfred and singing old songs from Denmark he knew. They bathed, as per Mathias’ request, this time using the tub as a hip bath. Afterwards, they lay naked on the bed, talking quietly and whispering sweet nothings in each other’s ear.

Alfred’s heart felt lighter when he went outside to feed and water the horses a few hours later. Mathias was being so playful and kind, he could feel himself falling deeper in love. There was a distinct sense that this was the “true” Mathias, or at least what he had been before his wife and child died.

Alfred imagined a Mathias constantly laughing, running around their farm playing with his son, sneaking up behind his wife to steal a kiss. 

Though the thought was objectively nice, Alfred couldn’t help but prickle with jealousy. He wanted Mathias to look at him with the pure adoration he saw in his mind. There would be no child and no farm, at least for the time being, but Alfred decided that he could have the domestic bliss of loving this man.

When Alfred re-entered the room, Mathias was lying on the bed and trying to play Alfred’s harmonica, totally oblivious to his lover striding over to the bed.

A bit frustrated by Mathias’ lack of attention, Alfred sidled up to the bed and tried to recline back as sensually as he could.

“Well, hey there, handsome. Is that a gun in your holster or are you just happy to see me?”

Mathias looked up slowly at Alfred, his brow wrinkled.

“Alfred, I don’t have my belt on and my pistol is over on the trunk.”

Alfred suppressed the urge to laugh. His partner must not have understood English double entendre. This was going to be fun.

He rolled over and straddled Mathias’ hips, hands going straight to Mathias’ pants.

“Must be happy to see me then. It’s mighty flattering, how excited you are.” He began rubbing the palm of his hand over Mathias’ cock, his touch light enough to tease more than stimulate.

“Ah-ahhh,” Mathias sucked in a breath around his moan, his body reacting immediately and enthusiastically to Alfred.

“I couldn’t help noticing how lonesome you look over here and now you’ve got yourself a big problem here. You sure are in a bad way, darling. How bout I give you some help with that?”

Alfred tilted his head up to watch his partner’s reaction. Something in Mathias’ eyes darkened, then flashed. Before Alfred could register the change and what it might mean, Mathias had wrestled him down on the bed.

He pinned Alfred’s wrist above his head and said in a deep, aggressive whisper, “You think you’re going to control me, boy?”

Mathias loomed over him, shaking his head, “I can see I’ve been too lenient with you and now you are misbehaving. Well, by the end of the night, you’ll know your place again.”

It was rough in a way Alfred wasn’t used to. Francis was a gentle, if strict, lover and the men he’d been with in Louisiana were more interested in quickly achieving climax than an involved scene of punishment and reward.

Nevertheless, Alfred was nearly senseless from pleasure. Every time Mathias’ hands touched him, he cried out in either pain or ecstasy. His thighs shook as they wrapped around Mathias’ waist in an effort to pull the two of them as close together as physically possible. The rickety wooden bed was slammed against the wall each time Mathias thrusted into him.

The world faded out of focus and all that mattered were their bodies in an effortless exchange. To be able to relax and allow Mathias to do as he wanted, knowing he would never seriously harm him and that his own pleasure would not be forgotten was the sweetest surrender. 

Alfred was only aware of his surroundings when the door to their room was opened and five men barged in, laughing raucously. A cloud of corn whiskey and cheap ladies’ cologne wafted in with them.

Mathias moved immediately to cover Alfred’s body but it was far too late. The men were obviously drunk and had stumbled into the wrong room. But judging by the looks on their faces that were equal parts disgust and sadistic glee, this was no loss because they’d found themselves a new pastime.

“Lookie what we got here,” the tallest one said as he staggered forward. “Two sodomites and we done caught em red-handed!”

“What should we do with em, Clint?” a smaller, wiry fellow with a grimy beard asked.

“Clint” was the leader of the group and he seemed to be the one really getting a kick out of the situation. He stood with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face, shaking his head slowly back and forth as he closed the door and locked it.

“Why, we’ll teach them a lesson, of course.” He jerked his head in the direction of the still-full tub and said, “Alright boys, take the pederast for a good working over and his boy there for a bath.”

Three men had seized Mathias before Alfred could even react. They threw Mathias on the floor and began punching and kicking him. When one of them kicked Mathias in the torso hard enough that Alfred heard a crack, he made a desperate lunge for his partner.

“Oh-ho, where do you think you’re going? We ain’t even started with you yet,” Clint and another man managed to grab a struggling Alfred and dragged him across the room.

They forced him to the ground and began dunking his head under the water and wrenching it back up in intervals.

“Filthy, dirty sinners, both of you! Well, here’s your chance to repent. Think of it as a baptism,” Clint said in a falsely affable tone while he held Alfred above the water and gripped Alfred’s wet hair so hard Alfred thought he’d rip it out by the roots.

Each time he shoved Alfred’s head back under, Alfred’s body reflexively gasped for air and only sucked in water. 

They’re going to kill me, Alfred thought numbly. He was resigned to his fate but kept praying that God would take him instead of Mathias. After all, if anyone deserved death, deserved to be castigated, it was himself.

But when the men pulled Alfred’s head up for what he assumed would be his last breath, there was a thundering crash as the door was kicked in.

The hand holding Alfred released him and Alfred opened his eyes, blinking harshly from the water and bright light from the hall.

An older man, the owner of the inn, fired a warning shot from his shotgun, the bullet leaving in a crack in the window pane.

“Get out of here, all of you! This ain’t a whorehouse out on the trail somewheres. I intend to keep order in my place of business and I won’t stand for drunkards making trouble around here. Out!”

The five men ran past the inn owner, their boots echoing down the hall and on the stairs.

Mathias lay in a groaning heap on the floor and Alfred was frozen in shock until the owner gave the gun a wave.

“You got till the count of ten to leave or I put a bullet in both your brains, knowing not a court in the world would convict me.”

Alfred got clumsily to his feet and began snatching his clothes up. He grabbed Mathias by the bicep, dressed them both, grabbed what he could, and climbed out the window. Mathias and he couldn’t get his balance and nearly fell to his knees. Alfred tugged at his sleeve, trying to drag him.

“Come on!”

They ran for what felt like miles until they had reached a suitably dark alley between a saloon and a barbershop to hide in. They were blocked in by a large stagecoach on the other end, affording them a bit of cover from view.

Mathias collapsed to the ground, wheezing and choking on his own breath while Alfred groped blindly for the wall to help himself down. He would have hit the ground face first if Mathias had not caught him and guided him down next to him.

“Mathias, are you alright?”

Mathias nodded, face crumpled in pain. “I should be asking you. They nearly drowned you. I can take a beating, I’m more worried about you.”

His hand came up and caressed Alfred’s cheek. Alfred kissed Mathias’ palm and pressed his nose into it.

“You hurt bad?”

“I think some of my ribs may be broken but I’ll be fine. Just need to have them taped is all.”

“I don’t have any bandages. I promise, as soon as there’s daylight, I’ll go to the general store and get you some.”

Alfred ruffled his wet hair, trying to dry it a little. It was a cold night and his ears were starting to ache.

“We can’t stay out here all night. We’ll freeze to death and you’re in a bad way. I’m gonna go look around, see if there’s any place that’ll let us stay for a few nights.”

“Al…”

“We can’t travel like this. You won’t be able to sit up on your horse. Shit! The horses! Look, sit right here I’m gonna sneak back over to the inn and get them.”

“Al don’t go. I have this awful feeling-” Mathias pleases but Alfred cut him off.

“Shh shh shh, just shut up honey. Stay here and I’ll be right back.”

Alfred kissed Mathias soundly on his swollen lips and moved away in quick side steps.

When he found the horses exactly where he’d left them, Alfred sent up a silent prayer and saddled them as quickly as he could.

Looking both ways with each step he took, Alfred led the horses out of the stable and towards the alley. He heard voices in the street and pulled the brim of his hat down to hide his face. Mathias’ horse, for all it’s stubborn meaness, must have realized the danger they were all in, because it allowed itself to be led by the harness and uttered not a sound of complaint.

Alfred’s horse began to whinny softly, almost a keening call of distress. Alfred put his hand to her mane and pet her. 

“Shh, shh, girl, it’s gonna be alright. We’re gonna get Mathias and ride outta here.”

Worried that the horses might spook, Alfred tied their reins to a post and gave his horse a final pat.

“Take it easy now, girl, I’ll be right back. Keep quiet.”

Alfred turned but felt his blood run cold when a sound echoed from the opposite end of the alley. An even click. Like a gun.

Mathias!

Alfred pulled his own gun and crouched low to the ground, moving amongst the shadows. He squinted his eyes, straining to see where Mathias was and who else was there.

“This here’s a stick up, friend, and if you got the sense God gave you, you’ll reach for the sky and not make a sound.”

Mathias was standing hunched over, struggling to raise his hands.

For the second time that night, a group of four violent men accosted Mathias. A tall man with an expression that could best be described as one part disgust and two parts boredom stood in the middle of the five and seemed to be the one who had spoken. Two rough-looking characters flanked him on either side, effectively blocking the alley. One man stood in front, with a pistol aimed straight at Mathias’ face.

Alfred knew he had to act quickly. He stepped out of the shadows, drawing himself to his full height and keeping his weapon concealed.

“He ain’t got any money and neither do I.”

The tall man raised an eyebrow. “I think you do. I think you’re the drivers of this here stagecoach and I think you’re gonna hand over all your money and your valuables or I’m gonna have to give the orders to shoot you and your friend.”

“We’re cowboys, not stagecoach drivers. I’ll give you a hint though. There’s an inn a little ways down that might could use a good robbing. Why don’t y’all go and see for yourselves?”

The tall man turned to one of his associates and asked, “How many drivers you think we need to give us what we want?”

“One,” the young man answered cheerfully.

The tall man looked at the gunman in front and said, “Shoot the quiet one and we’ll see if we can’t get the one with the big mouth to talk.”

Before the man had even gotten his finger on the trigger, he was on the ground, dead from a bullet between the eyes.

Alfred stepped closer. “I got five more shots where that came from and I’d be happy to prove it if you think I’m lying about that too.”

The three henchmen looked stunned while the tall man was as cool as ever.

He glanced down his long, thin nose at the fallen gunman and made a low “hmm” sound in his throat. He poked the dead body with the toe of his boot and looked up at Alfred.

“Nice shot.”

Alfred shrugged in response. Inside, he was brimming with pride and adrenaline. Alfred knew he should feel guilty, he had just killed someone after all, but this felt good. Strong. He’d seen someone about to hurt Mathias and was able to quickly dispose of the threat. It didn’t hurt that this also proved he really was a great shot.

“Alfred!”

Mathias staggered over to him. Alfred put his gun in his holster and put an arm around Mathias. He wanted nothing more than to embrace Mathias but was wary of showing too much affection in public, especially considering the ordeal that had gotten them here in the first place.

The tall man glanced between the two and raised an appraising eyebrow at Mathias.

“You got an accent, where’re you from?”

“Denmark.”

“Hell, if I’da known you were an immigrant like me, I would’ve left you alone.” 

The man elbowed his way through his group and stood in front of Alfred and Mathias. He shoved his large hand with long, spider leg fingers in their faces.

“I’m Abel Janssen, from the Netherlands.” He gestured to the youngest-looking one that had stood to his right. 

“This here’s my brother Thomas.” The young man smiled blithely and nodded.

He jabbed a finger towards the man on the left, a dark, scraggly-haired fellow with a smirk on his face, “And this is Henrique.”

“I’m Alfred and this is Mathias.”

Abel directed his gaze to the dead man on the ground. “And that was Loughton. Ain’t know his Christian name, ain’t care to. We just needed a gunman. I suppose we’re in the market for another one.”

His stern green eyes locked in on Alfred’s. “How’d you like to be our new gunman?”

“Wha-me?”

Abel shrugged. “Sure. You hit a man between the eyes down a dark alley. That’s a damn good shot, to my mind. ‘Sides that, we want your Dane there in our gang and I reckon you two are a package deal.”

“Why do you want me?” Mathias rasped.

“We immigrants got to stick together, make money anyway we can. Most folks hear our accents and tell us to get gone. Them banks make their money off people like us anyhow. So if we skim a little off the top from some of the fat cats out here, I don’t see the harm in it.”

“You rob stagecoaches and banks,” Mathias said, straightening himself up as much as he could. “You don’t want a gunman just for show. Folks are going to get hurt, aren’t they? Like you nearly hurt me?”

“If they do what we say and hand their money over, nobody’ll get hurt at all,” Thomas said cheerfully.

“You’re insane! One minute you want to rob or kill us and the next you want us to join your gang? Well, I am a man of principles and I’ll not take up with the likes of you,” Mathias said. “Come on, Alfred, we need to get back down to Texas for the next drive.”

“Well, hold on now,” Alfred tugged on Mathias’ sleeve to stop him as he turned. “Let’s hear the man out. What’s in it for us?”

“Split the money five ways. We got ourselves a hideout just a little ways off. We travel around to intercept stagecoaches, sometimes we ride into these little towns and hold up the banks, and we get our money. My sister Laura is back there, and she does the cooking and washing.”

Alfred rubbed his hands up and down Mathias’ shoulders thoughtfully. This was easy money, no more long drives, no more working for peanuts while fellows like Pritchard took the lion’s share.

“We’ll take your offer.”

“Alfred?”

“Alright, let’s saddle up boys. Our horses are tied up on the edge of town. Y’all can follow us to our hideout.”

Abel and the others began to walk down the alley but stopped and turned back to look at Alfred. 

“And make sure you got your pistol handy. Never know when something might come up.”

“What about this stagecoach?”

“We’ve been watchin’ it for a while. We’ll be back for it tomorrow night. It’ll be your first real test, sharpshooter.”

The three men were gone before Alfred could even form a response.

When their footsteps were no longer within earshot, Alfred stomped his feet, shrieking “Yeehaw!” before dragging Mathias down the alley to their horses.

“Come on, honey, onto the next adventure!”

 

The hideout was apparently an abandoned saloon in what must have once been a town. What existed now were the remains of a few shanty shacks and the rather macabre scaffold with a moldy rope in otherwise perfect condition standing in the middle of the road.

Alfred and Mathias were introduced to Laura, a kindly, if somewhat plain young lady, who smiled and shook Alfred’s hand. She even had a smile for Mathias, who was more standoffish than he had been with the other woman in the general store. 

Alfred couldn’t help noticing the moony look she got when speaking to Mathias and decided immediately that he would be watching Laura carefully to ensure she didn’t get any designs on his man.

Soon, Alfred and Mathias were shown to their room upstairs, generously provided with some nightclothes by Laura, and left alone for the night. Alfred helped Mathias to the bed and undressed him, casting the dirty, bloody clothes off into the corner of the room.

Alfred sat on the old steamer trunk and took his own clothing off. He examined his britches, glaring at the hole he found in the crotch. A search of the trunk revealed a needle and thread and he set to work mending them.

Mathias watched as Alfred licked the thread and stabbed it through the eye of the needle in one try.

“Al I don’t know about this.”

“You don’t?” Alfred didn’t bother to look up and he sounded distracted, more focused on mending the hole in his britches than addressing Mathias’ concerns.

“This isn’t right, Al. We’re gonna be thieves.”

“Now honey you’re gettin all riled up about nothing. If we rob a few banks, hold up a Wells Fargo coach every now and then, I don’t see the harm. That’s what the Dutchman said.”

“That’s what he says now. But what about later on? What if he finds out about somebody that’s got a lotta money from prospecting just lying around his house?”

“Aw Mathias you act as if we’re gonna be robbing widows and little children. It’s not like that and you know it.”

“What happened to justice and equality? I thought you wanted to be a Texas Ranger.”

Finally, Alfred stopped. His eyes flicked up at Mathias and they were cold and hard.

“Justice huh? Like when you got your ribs broke in Abilene? Was that them serving us justice for bein how we are? You think them boys’ll ever see any justice?”

Mathias didn’t respond, watching Alfred’s deft hands working.

“Way I see it, the days when a man could make an honest living are gone. Everybody’s out to take from everybody else. The church wants to take from you, the government wants to take from you. Some folks nowadays would stick you like a pig if they thought you had two bits more than them and not lose any sleep over it.”

Alfred finished the mending and cut the thread with his teeth. Then he stood, yawning and stretching before bending over to pick up his underclothes and hunt through the trunk to find some soap.

He caught Mathias staring and stuck out his backside more prominently. His partner had never made a secret of what he considered Alfred’s best feature and Alfred felt no shame in exploiting that fact. Mathias stroked his beard in response, more transfixed than he wanted to let Alfred know.

“And anyway, we can’t be cowboys forever. What’s gonna happen to us when we get old and broken down? You already got troubles with your back and I been bucked off enough horses to know that my number to break my neck is coming up soon.”

Alfred looked up at his partner, trying to gauge his reaction. Mathias looked displeased and suspicious. Alfred frowned. He hated for Mathias to be mad at him. He’d mull it over in the bath and find a way to fix things.

“I’m gonna go wash up. Don’t let nobody ride in here and steal you away.” He gave a smile Mathias could have seen through a mile away and left their room.

Alfred came loping back in about half an hour, smelling like lye soap and Florida water. Mathias couldn’t help but smile as Alfred made his way over and crawled into his lap. 

“Rascal,” Mathias muttered in his ear as he put his arms around Alfred and held him tightly.

Alfred began to kiss him, laughing softly when Mathias’ beard scraped against his cheek. Alfred ran his fingers through Mathias’ hair and began squirming around in such a way that Mathias knew couldn’t be accidental.

“Now hold still,” Mathias warned as he grabbed Alfred under his thighs and carried him to the bed.

Some time later, Alfred was trying to put on his discarded underclothes in the dark. He reached for a match and a candle on the trunk when Mathias grabbed his arm and drew him back.

“Don’t waste the candle for that. It’s not cold under these blankets.”

Alfred grinned at him over his shoulder.

“You cad, I should think you like to see me without my clothing on,” Alfred said in a high, affected voice.

Mathias chuckled. “I do like it, that’s my trouble.”

Alfred began wiggling around and Mathias grabbed him around the waist and pulled him close.

“You’re like a rabbit.”

“How’s that?”

“You can’t be still and you like to fuck all the time.”

“You wasn’t exactly complaining,” Alfred simpered, kissing Mathias’ hands.

Mathias sighed like he was too tired to keep up bantering with Alfred. He just rubbed his hands up and down Alfred’s chest and stomach. 

“How’re your ribs?” Alfred asked.

“They hurt like hell. But I’ve had worse. Did I ever tell you about the time my brother and I got in a fight while we were trying to repair the thatching on the roof of our family’s cottage?”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Well, let’s just say I landed funny and the old village doctor would have thought it was a miracle I was able to give my wife a child.”

Alfred laughed quietly as he rolled over and snuggled up to Mathias. He buried his face in Mathias’ neck and breathed deeply. 

He’d truly never known contentment in his young life but there was something real and sturdy here. Alfred had never been good at long-term plans but he knew he wanted to be with Mathias for the rest of his life. If his father had been right, and he really was bound for hell, then Alfred wanted to enjoy his life on earth while he still could. He just had to convince Mathias.

Alfred laid his head on the pillow, looking up into those light blue eyes he’d come to love with a ferocity he thought he’d never feel again.

“Look, think of it like this, we’re just gonna save up a little money. We ain’t gotta run with Janssen and his gang for long. We’ll buy some land and have a horse farm. You can be a carpenter again. We’ll live out in the middle of nowhere where nobody can bother us. We’ve got the chance to be happy. I reckon it’s worth the risk.”

“Do you love me?” Alfred asked.

“I do. And there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you. I’d rob every bank from Hell to Houston so we could stay together.”

Alfred held his hand up flat to Mathias. 

“Partners to the end?”

Mathias laced his fingers through Alfred’s and squeezed.

“Partners to the end.”


End file.
